We Live Again: 12 Bronx's Rumble in the Bronx
by Cosmina Inspira
Summary: Who let the gargbeasts out? When the beast pup, Nudnik, gets loose, it's up to Bronx to find him, but the merry chase leads them to an underground dog fighting ring, where Bronx must face off in a showdown against his own clone, Anaheim, and helps on a police raid to end the abuse of illegal underground dog fights. T for some violence.
1. Chapter 1

We Live Again

Episode 12: Bronx's Rumble in the Bronx

By Cosmic Inspiration

Disclaimer: The Gargoyles animated series, including the Goliath Chronicles, is the property and copyright of the Walt Disney Company and Buena Vista Television, originally created by Greg Weisman. Characters such as Graeme, Ariana, Sata, Darius, Nudnik, and the mention of Icarus are from TGS and are used with permission from the TGS staff with the condition of creative acknowledgement. All original characters are the property of the author Cosmic Inspiration. No copyright infringement is intended here nor authorized by the copyholders; this author makes no profit from these stories and only writes for fun and entertainment purposes.

Author's Note: On the subject of the apocrypha series The Goliath Chronicles as the third underrated season of the series, at the time I enjoyed it because I was a kid and it meant the continuation of the series, though now I see in some ways it was lacking some. Though TGC did not quite live up the first two seasons due to GW's and many others departure, I see the series now as somewhat cheesy but having a few good moments and some occasional good lines which I occasionally sneak into my stories. On that note, this story has a small inspiration from the TGC episode 'A Bronx Tale,' which I considered calling this story, but decided against it so as not to have this story and the TGC episode confused, yet a few small elements made it into this story. If I wrote this right, I hope it makes you think of a popular song by the Baha Men. I hope you enjoy. Also, the events of this story begin at least three nights after events of 11\. Wisdom in late February 2000.

Previously on Gargoyles . . .

Bronx growls at a startled Hakon as Goliath then lands to say, "I see you've met our watchdog."

(Canon)_Awakening Pt. 1_

"He's yours, isn't he? Well, thanks fer th' lone o' him." Rory Dugan.

(Canon)_The Hound of Ulster_

Scene of Bronx and Nudnik first meeting in TGS episode _Out of Joint Pt. 2_

"And whose DNA have you brought tonight, my little thief?" Sevarius says as he extracts from a robotic mosquito in Canon episode _The Reckoning_.

"I kept their programming simple," Thailog said as he pats Brentwood's head, "Obey Thailog, it's all they really need to know."

(Canon)_The Reckoning_

"So how many are there?" Maria Chavez.

"Thirteen, including two gargbeasts. They're kind of like dogs, only considered more like part of the clan than just pets." Elisa

(WLA)_Legends_

****Nightstone Unlimited

He did not always understand what his master talked to the others about, or what they did every night, but usually he did not care so long as they did not threaten his master. If they did he made sure they knew he meant business with just a growl and a near bite, but he will still attack unless master tells him otherwise.

He protects and obeys master, because it is what he does.

The gargbeast called Anaheim, with hide a yellow green color, pupil less red eyes, black teeth, a white mouth, a bulldog like face, fin shaped ears, horns on his brow ridge, three spikes down his massive back, and a short stubby tail, eyed the strange figures surrounding his master, some like him and others not like him, but all still very strange.

"Sevarius," Thailog rumbled, "Do you have any more results from any of your experiments?"

Sevarius had come to know that tone all too well over the last several months, Thailog was getting impatient and the geneticist had to learn quickly to curb it if he was going to live so much as another week.

"I've already made some promising breakthroughs, and the healing serum I promised you, old friend, will be ready soon enough. I'm also interested in acquiring specimens from a previous experiment, rumor which tells of an interesting development."

Thailog glared blood red daggers at his creator as he warned with venom in his deep voice, "You'd better have it ready very soon enough, Sevarius, because I've grown sick and tired of being weak all the time. I want to know why stone sleep hasn't cured me by now."

"Not to worry, Thailog, I'll look into it while I'm working on my other experiments," Sevarius said smugly while Thailog just growled low from his throat.

He then switched his gaze to the gargoyle necromancer, Darius, and said to him,

"I know you're busy with you own magical projects, Darius, but I want you to work with Coldsteel here on an interesting idea that recently came to me, and he has agreed to it if you're capable of it."

Darius looked over at the silver grey android for even daring to insult his magical integrity, which was just returned with cold indifference.

"As a sorcerer of the Dark Arts, see if there is a way to transfer Coldsteel's soul into the body of another, particularly one of Goliath's clan," Thailog said with a smirk, "You both have mutual vengeance vendettas with him, I'm sure you can work something out, and I'm sure Darius will surpass even your expectations, Coldsteel."

The sorcerer and the android then left for Darius' workshop to begin the magical research, both giving each other looks of mutual distain.

"And as for you, Sevarius," Thailog growled at the mad scientist, "Permission is granted for you to acquire your 'specimens' for whatever devious experiment your cooking up in that vile brain of yours. Just be sure it doesn't distract you from your top priority."

"Consider it done, Thailog," Sevarius said jubilantly, "And I assure you, what I have in mind may be exactly what you need, even if you don't know it."

He then left with an arrogant swagger in his step for his personal labs deep within the Nightstone building.

The only ones now left alone with Thailog were Anaheim, Shari, and Typhon.

"Now, Typhon, my friend," Thailog said with a smirk, which Typhon only returned with a stoic brood, "I know you would've wanted this to be private. I have promising news, reliable sources have informed me that a gargoyle fitting Icarus' description has been sighted around Gramercy Park. Why don't you have a look around and see what you can find. And do me a favor while you're at it, Anaheim has been getting a bit antsy lately, so I'd appreciate it if you'd at least take him out for some exercise."

The New Olympian gargoyle eyed the olivine colored, red eyed creature with wary contempt as Anaheim stepped up to Typhon and glared at him.

"Don't worry," Thailog smirked more, "He knows to obey you, unless you try to harm him."

"Come along then, beast," Typhon said with a hard tone as he and Anaheim made their way to the automatic opening window, and Typhon glided away with Anaheim in his arms.

"That should do it for now," he said as he then turned to Shari, who had taken a seat at a table with a chess game set up.

Taking a seat facing her was a bit of a struggle for Thailog, but he made himself comfortable as he pondered his first move in this already in progress game, then made a move with his Rook.

"How about a story as we play, my dear?" Thailog suggested.

"The story goes," Shari began as she made a move to counter Thailog's Rook, "though who could say if it be true, of a hero from Ulster and his wild noble companion . . ."

****Castle Wyvern, same night

Within the slate grey walls of an ancient enchanted castle, a clan of fantastic beings surrounded their giant leader who held himself with a commanding dignity that immediately demanded respect. To each of the members of his clan he assigned them into groups and patrol routes for the night, yet when he looked at a pair of fraternal preadolescent twins, he momentarily hesitated. But it quickly passed as they looked up at him with determination and eagerness.

"Graeme, Ariana," Goliath rumbled to them, "I want you to take Bronx and Nudnik out for their nightly exercise in Central Park while you patrol, but be sure not to wander too far from Desdemona."

They both gave their affirmatives to the clan leader with faint hints of groans.

"Nudnik, Bronx, heel," Graeme yelled and the gargbeasts came running at him, Nudnik more excitably than Bronx that the younger gargbeast nearly bowled over the dark green gargoyle over as he leaped into his arms making Graeme give an 'oomph' sound.

Bronx just walked up to them with a more dignified fashion and gave the pup a glower at his lack of discipline. Desdemona took the larger gargbeast in her arms and she and the young twins glided their way towards Central Park.

Though the hatchling beast had doubled in size in the last few years, he still had a long way to go before reaching full maturity and an appropriate breeding age, yet still he was putting a strain on Graeme's wings.

"Ungh, you really need to lay off the treats, boy," Graeme said, "You're getting too heavy to carry around."

"I'm certain he's easier and much lighter than this beast I have to carry," complained Desdemona, Bronx just gave her a low growl of insult.

"Yeah, yeah," moaned Graeme, making Ariana snicker behind her beak at their bantering.

They soon made it to a more forested area of Central Park where they released their bestial burdens, and Graeme and Desdemona gave a few leathery flaps of aching wings in relief.

Unsurprisingly, Nudnik began sniffing around at the ground trying to decide which interesting new smell to track, trotting this way and that about as Bronx patiently sat down to watch the beast pup.

"Remember to not allow your pup to wander too far off, rookery son," Desdemona said.

"I know, Aunt Des," Groaned Graeme as he rolled his eyes at the caramel orange female.

"I don't understand why you or Ariana don't just call me rookery mother, surely you understand I am as much a mother to the two of you as your biological mother."

"We do, Aunt Des," Ariana said, "I guess it's just a force of habit when you've spent most of your life around humans."

"In a sense I have, rookery daughter, but very few in the clan ever picked up most human familial customs."

"I guess it's more from spending so much of our lives in the future. We know it isn't the Gargoyle Way, but our parents did tell us that if we ever stopped timedancing and became part of a permanent clan, we should think of the elders as our adopted parents should anything ever happen to them," Graeme said.

This made Desdemona smile for only a moment when she suddenly noticed the gargbeasts were wandering too far off, Nudnik chasing after a small animal and Bronx chasing after him.

"Hey, you two," Graeme shouted, "Get back here! Heel, Nudnik, heel!"

But the beast pup just galumphed away after a squirrel, paying no attention to his young master's command or Bronx's authoritative barking to obey as he ran after him.

The brown beast pup chased his quarry to a tree where the squirrel quickly skittered up the thick trunk to the nearest branch to then stare at the pup in indignant fear with an irritated chirping and puffed up tail, as Nudnik jumped around the base of the tree barking playfully up at it.

Bronx then came running up to Nudnik to place himself between the yapping pup and the tree to give a disciplinary deep growl. In shameful obedience, Nudnik squatted on his haunches and lowered his spiny head as he gave a low shameful whimper to the older gargbeast.

"Good boy, Bronx, you found him," Graeme said as he soon came running up to the gargbeasts, "Nuddie, heel, boy."

Nudnik walked up to his young master to sit by his side, making Graeme give a big smile with his big beak.

"Good boy, Nuddie, now stay," he said proudly, a great feeling of accomplishment washed over him that the dog obedience lessons from Robbins were paying off.

"Well done, Graeme," Desdemona praise as she and Ariana approached, "Watch the beasts closely, while Ariana and I patrol from above for a time."

Graeme could not help but give a slight frown as he watched his female patrol mates climb high enough for gliding, being stuck with having to dog sit. But that frown turned upside down with a bit of smugness as he said,

"Okay, boys, you heard her, I'm in charge here. Let's go find some bad guys. Now, heel, Nudnik; heel, Bronx."

Bronx and Nudnik walked closely beside Graeme, the older gargbeast keeping a very close watch on the younger gargbeast.


	2. Chapter 2

****Olde York Opera House, Greenwich Village

A scarlet colored gargoyle and a yellow green beast glided into a structure the gargoyle deduced must be used for thespian and entertainment purposes as he soon landed in a storage room filled with obvious hand crafted displays for backdrops and stage settings.

Relieved of his burden of carrying Anaheim, he briefly looked around the storage room, being momentarily amused at the primitive theatre sets and props as they reminded him of the New Olympians' elaborate and state of the art plays and festivals when theatre performers reenacted myths and tales of old. What he saw for human theatre productions seemed clumsy and gaunt in comparison, yet he was given to understand human 'moving pictures,' or movies as they were called, always featured the latest in 'special effects.' Yet he was certain whatever humans considered 'entertainment' was all crude, pointless, and insulting.

But enough musing, the real question was why did she want to meet here in the first place?

Looking around, Typhon finally spotted who he was looking for sitting on a large wooden crate.

"There you are, Fury," Typhon said to Demona, "I had been unsure if I came to the right meeting place, but why here?"

Instead of answering, Demona eyed the olivine gargbeast in surprise and mild disgust as she spat out, "What is _that_?"

Typhon quirked a brow ridge as he said, "It is a gargbeast, Thailog calls it 'Anaheim.' Do they not have beasts in your clan?"

"Of course they do," Demona snared insulted, "It's just I though this one was. . ." she then tried to compose herself as she realized her temper was getting the better of her, and she could not afford to alienate or lose this valued ally.

She then noticed the beast was actually growling viciously at her with blood red glowing eyes.

"It appears he does not like you, Fury," Typhon said, making Demona roll her eyes at his grasp of the obvious, "It's understandable, I don't much care for this beast either."

"What's he up to now?" Demona said with a clear tone she wanted to drop the subject.

Typhon gave a growling sigh as he said, "It's the same as it's been for weeks now, he conducts his 'business' with humans and their nefarious 'crime families.' It repulses me, I grow tiresome of all this cloak and dagger intrigue."

"What else has he done, has he made any moves against Goliath's clan?"

"He uses the robot Coldsteel and Darius for that, and they're now working on some sort of 'soul transfer' spell. But a personal move, no not yet. He's more interest in acquisition and establishing power over the humans of this city. He only has the weakened form of a gargoyle, but acts more like a deceitful human. He protects nothing, he has no honor."

Demona looked away in contemplation for a moment, her brow deeply furrowed as she said aloud,

"Yes, and like the damn humans, a rare exception to the rule."

Typhon gave her a confused and curious look, but before he could ask anything, she said,

"Just keep watching him, because I'm certain whatever move against the humans he plans the clan will get involved in sooner or later. What I need to know now is if you've assessed any kind of weakness he has."

"So far, only his arrogance and his constant attempt to misdirect me with lies and half truths. Tonight he told me Icarus might be in a place called Gramercy Park," Typhon said with slight frustration.

"Thailog always was good at telling what someone wanted to hear instead of the honest truth," Demona hissed.

"What did you see in him as a mate, anyway?" Typhon suddenly asked, making Demona give him a hard surprised look of indignation.

"That is something I never want to speak of again," she said with an icy undertone.

"As you wish, Fury," Typhon simply responded.

"Just tell me what you know of Thailog's plans," she demanded crossly.

Typhon was unsure of how to word what had had observed from Thailog and his insidious activities at Nightstone, much of it being very alien to him. Yet what he was able to describe to Demona seemed to make her fume all the more as she realized what it all meant.

"What he's using *my* company for and what he's turning it into is outrageous," Demona hissed.

As much as Typhon agreed with her, he could not help but wonder. . .

A rough scratching interrupted his thoughts as it then lead to the sound of creaking and breaking wood.

"What's that?" Demona said alarmed, "Where's that beast?!"

The red and blue gargoyles dashed about the theatre storage room looking hither and about for the missing Anaheim.

Demona then turned a corner to find the olivine colored beast chewing and ripping at big wooden strips he had torn from an old stage backdrop of a Viking ship.

"What are you doing, you stupid beast?!" Demona cried in horror, "Stop that!"

She madly dashed up to Anaheim and desperately tried to grab away the various torn and chewed up wooden steaks and splinters from the gargbeast clone, yet instead of timidly backing away from the angered Demona, Anaheim viciously snarled at her and suddenly bit down hard on her hand like a vice with knife sharp teeth.

"Argh!" Demona cried in pain as she cradled her bleeding hand, the deep bite wounds already rapidly healing with her immortality.

Beast clone and immortal gargoyle stared off dangerously at each other, both with blood red glowing eyes and deep throaty growls aimed at the other.

Demona made a sudden and rapid move as she hissed like a flared hooded cobra, making Anaheim leap at her with his fangs exposed in a roaring growl to begin clawing at her with powerful talons and snapping equally powerful jaws at her and tried to ensnare her neck in a deadly bit.

Ancient primal instinct, which had become infused within all creatures of nature throughout countless incomprehensible millennia of evolution, coursed as wildfire through both predatory creatures in a clash of survival of the fittest in an adrenaline rush to boost strength and stamina. Yet here between two species of gargate, it was aggressive self-preservation versus survivalist experience with Anaheim impulsively snapping and clawing at Demona in an unpredictable pattern while she used her own strength and fighting skills to hold back the large gargbeast. Yet, this was not enough to prevent her from receiving deep bloodied scratches from Anaheim's claws and nips.

"Anaheim, cease at once!" shouted Typhon as he desperately tried to pull the large gargbeast off of the azure gargoyle.

Typhon was able to hold Anaheim in a tight bear hug for only half a second, yet the olivine gargbeast squirmed hard enough to break Typhon's hold on him and attack the scarlet New Olympian instead.

Anaheim's attack on Typhon only lasted a full second but it was enough for him to leave deep wounds in Typhon's abdomen, chest, and shoulders as he pushed against the large gargoyle to make a running leap for escape.

Running his way through the opera house storage room, Anaheim crashed through the building's side door, turning it into shattered kindling, as he gave a defiant howl. He only assessed his surroundings for but a moment as a single simple instinct surged through him; return to Master.

Back within the opera house, Typhon had quickly recovered from the attack, and knew his minor wounds will heal at sunrise. He was more concerned with Demona, whom he looked at with worry as he saw the extent of her wounds, yet as she stood she acted as though they were nothing.

"Are you alright, Fury?" he asked worriedly.

"I'll be fine," she growled, "We must get that beast back, it'll ruin everything. I can't allow it to reveal my presence in the city."

Though a bit reluctant to go after the beast, Typhon could understand Demona's point, highly paranoid though it sounded.

Together, the red and blue gargoyles set out to find the escaped gargbeast.

****Central Park, same night

"N-n-nice doggie, g-good doggie," the would-be purse snatcher stuttered as Bronx held him down with his full body strength and growled warningly at him with white glowing eyes.

Nearby, Nudnik did the same as Bronx, only appearing more adorable than tough.

"Good boy, Bronx," Graeme said as his sister picked up the stolen goods and made her way to find the thief's would-be victim, who as expected, ran off at the frightful sight of gargoyles.

Desdemona steadily pulled Bronx off of the thief, a boy in his mid teens, and firmly, but gently grabbed him by the shoulders to keep him from getting away.

"Why ya pickin' on me, ya freaks?" he loudly groaned, "I din hurt nobody."

"By stealing that woman's hand bag, you have in a sense done her harm," Desdemona firmly said.

"I jes' needed her money, not the whole purse," he said defensively, as the split winged female began pushing him to a secure place to be found by police.

"For what, to buy drugs?" Graeme accused, "Must want to try that weird sounding Obscura stuff that's going around on the streets."

"Neva touch the stuff," the purse thief said defensively, "Jes' needed ta eat."

"There are shelters where you can get food," Desdemona said.

"Yeah, in the cruddiest nehbahoods, lady, wi' gangs and drug dealers, rapists, and muhdahrahs. I avoid those places, but whaddaya freaks care."

"I do not understand," said a confused Desdemona, "You are not like other street urchins we have captured before. If all you wish is to have food to survive, do you not have a home or clan that provides it for you?"

"Pfft, my parents don't care 'bout me, my own dad kicked me out months ago jes' 'cause I'm . . . ah, what am I tellin' ya for, you're bigger freaks than I am."

"You were banished from your clan?" said a surprised Desdemona, "What was so terrible that you deserved banishment?"

"You know, Aunt Des, if he's just down on his luck he could go to the Labyrinth," Graeme suggested.

"What's that?" asked the thief begrudgingly, "Some criminal insane asylum?"

Desdemona was about to answer when Graeme said in a panic, "Wait, where's Nudnik?!"

They both looked around rapidly for the young gargbeast just as Ariana returned, a confused look coloring her features.

"I swear he was here just a second ago," Graeme said panic stricken.

"Calm yourself, my rookery son, we will find him," Desdemona instructed, "Bronx, find Nudnik."

Bronx sniffed around for some moments to get the pup's scent before giving a low growl and then a signaling bark as he trotted in a different direction.

"That way," Desdemona said.

"Hey, ya know if ya've lost yer dog I can help find 'im," the teenage thief said.

"That'd be great, but why help us after we caught you for mugging?" Asked Ariana.

"I like dogs and I used ta have one like those when I was a kid. Now I'll neva see 'em again 'cause my jackass of a dad threw me out," the young man said bitterly.

"They are gargbeasts," corrected Desdemona, "but I understand the similarity. What is your name, young human?"

"Jacob," he said, "But my friends, if I had any, would call me Jake."

"Your assistance will be most appreciated," Desdemona said, "We will discuss your reasons later, for now we must find Nudnik before he gets too far."

Bronx yelped at the gargoyles and teenage human again more urgently as he made a few back and forth bounces for them to follow, and then rapidly dashed off in pursuit of tracking Nudnik's scent.


	3. Chapter 3

Not too far away, Nudnik followed his nose on the whiff of a most interesting and yummy mouth watering smell his nostrils caught a sniff of shortly before.

Like Big Daddy Bronx, he was going to be a good tracker some day and a good tracker always follows his nose on a strong scent, especially for food. Why Big Daddy Bronx didn't follow this smell with him, Nuddie didn't know why, it was yummy and meaty. And it was getting stronger, which meant whatever he was smelling is really close now.

The smell was coming from behind some big prickly bushes, but that won't stop Nuddie, he's got tough skin like the rest of his clan. Nudnik pushed his way past the botanical bushy obstacle, into the wildly crisscrossing sticks and branches, getting a leg caught in a web of limbs a time or two, but easily broke free with youthful determination and superior strength as he followed the scent to its source.

Pushing his cart of assorted goodies in front of himself, the late night hotdog vendor walked about down the path looking for any late night park goers looking for a taste of authentic New York weenies. Sadly though, business had become a bit slow since that urban legend of live gargoyle statues coming to life at night spread all over the metro area several years ago.

Being a born and bred native New Yorker, the hotdog vendor was vaguely aware of Gothic assorted decorations high atop the buildings, but c'mon, living statues coming to life at night?

At the time the vendor could only scoff at the notion and remain practical. He knew New Yorkers always had a flare for the dramatic and fantastic.

Still, maybe tonight he'll get lucky.

A loud rustling from some nearby bushes gave him a startle; the vendor stared at them in frozen fearful expectation, not knowing what was to emerge.

A moderately small brown dog creature squirmed its way out of the bushes covered in sticks and leaves, much of the plant refuse caught in its assortment of head spikes. It sniffed at the ground for but a moment as though searching for something to then sniff at the air for a moment more and looked at the vendor with pupil less white eyes, and gave him what looked like a doggie grin with an open maw and lopping tongue as it whined in expectation.

"Man," the vendor said, "Stray dawgs git ugl'er ev'ry day."

But then he did love dogs, and was a sucker whose heart melted at the sight of a hungry stray puppy. And in a weird way it was kind of cute.

"Hey, der l'tl fella," he said, "Ya hung'y? Ya looks l'ke ya wantins some re'l N' Yawk saus'ges, and I gots 'em. Fin'st in all N' Yawk."

The ugly looking puppy gave an excited yip as though he understood what he just said, its stubby tail wagged rapidly around like a tiny airplane propeller.

Nudnik's excitement made the hotdog vendor laugh at his mischief as the garg puppy turned one way then the other, hoping for the vendor to drop a hotdog treat. The little gargbeast even made a leap at the cart, surprising the vendor with amazing strength as the cart leaned and swayed about for a second or so.

"Whoa ders, l'tl fella," he said trying to calm the hungry pup, "I'll gets youse one, but j'st one, 'kay?"

Somebody gave a whistle then shouted, "Nudnik, here, boy!"

So the stray had an owner after all, maybe he won't mind if the vendor gave him a little treat.

As the vendor opened the storage bin with raw uncooked hotdogs, the strange looking pup jumped up at his cart again to make it sway harder to bounce from one wheel to the other as the pup's paws pushed against its side.

"Whoa ders, fella, not yet," the vendor cried with a slight panic as he reached for his tongs.

But Nudnik kept jumping up and down, too excited to wait for his meaty prize.

The next moment, several things happened all at once and too fast for the vendor to take in. From the same bushes suddenly emerged an even larger and uglier dog thing, this one a dark blue color and growled at the small brown one, making it finally knock over the cart completely and land on its side with a hard crash. Bags of chips and candy burst apart, cans of soda spewed foamy liquid, and ketchup, mustard, relish, and other condiments spilled onto the cement path, while the vendor was suddenly bowled over by the brown dog thing and landed with a hard bodily thump as it quickly ripped open the storage bin door to pull out a long link of hotdogs and started running away as the bigger blue dog thing made an impressive leap over the fallen cart to chase after the brown puppy. Not a moment later, several more weirder looking creatures quickly emerged from the trees and bushes to chase after the dog things.

For a second, the hotdog vendor thought he heard a kid shout, "Sorry, mister!" and a teenager momentarily hesitated as he started longingly at the spilled food, but then followed after the winged creatures.

For several long moments, the hotdog vendor just laid on his side staring after the scene in front of him, hardly believing what just took place.

He then reached for a packet from his shirt pocket and looked disgustedly at it.

"Dat's it," he growled, "I gotta lays off the cigs."

He tossed it into the nearest trashcan as he then set to struggling to right his fallen cart and salvaging what he could as he cleaned up the mess.

The three gargoyles and their new human friend chased after the gargbeasts, Nudnik bounding about hither and yon while entangled in a meaty chain of hotdogs, his mindset strong in a game of keep away and chase me while showing no signs of even slowing down.

"Nudnik, get back here!" Graeme shouted, "Why won't he listen to me? I thought I finally had him trained."

"He is still a young beast," said Desdemona, "They can still be very stubborn when they set to following their instincts."

"And right now his instincts are telling him this is all a game," Ariana panted.

"Which is why we need to catch Nudnik before he gets himself hurt," Desdemona said as they continued the chase.

Ahead of his clan, Nuddie ran like a bat out of hell only fueled by adrenaline and youthful vigor. He dashed about the edge of the park not caring where he headed to then follow a road through the park that lead to a busy street. Without even slowing he ran out into the middle of moving traffic as cars of various models tried to put on the breaks to avoid a head on collision with the garg pup and turning him into roadkill, though the sudden stops caused cars from behind to crash into the ones in front and create a chain reaction.

Far too focused on his game, Nuddie ignored the shrieking of tires on the road and the warning blares of cars' horns which were nothing more than faint background noise to him, though the acoustics could have greatly hurt his sensitive ears.

Nuddie then made a leap and bounced off of the hood of an ugly green Mercedes to leave faint claw marks, and then was followed by Bronx doing the same as he barked after the runaway Nudnik.

Inside the Mercedes, two familiar faces watched through the clear transparent glass window in surprise at the scene as the dog monsters were suddenly followed by several gargoyles and a street urchin struggling to keep up.

"You see what I mean, Brandon," Margot complained to her husband, "They're nothing but wild animals running rampant though the city streets risking people's safety. And Maza and Bluestone think they're as smart as people. Well, one way or another I'll have them tranquilized and locked up, preventing anything like this from happening again."

Brandon could only roll his eyes and slap his face as he shook his head.

Whatever was he going to do with Margot?

From the chaos that had ensued from the beasts running out into busy traffic, Desdemona and the others were quickly losing sight of the gargbeasts as they dashed about the growing crowds of startled and frightened humans. As the gargoyles and Jake tried to keep up, the growing crowd further inhibited them as people stared to gawk at the situation or squeezed tightly together to avoid the gargoyles.

As Desdemona tried to gently push her way through the increasing sea of humans, she suddenly realized she could no longer see any sign of the loose gargbeasts.

"I'm sorry, my young charges," she told the twins, "I've lost sight of them."

"What do we do now?" Graeme said worriedly.

"Call animal control?" Jake suggested sarcastically, making the gargoyles give him dirty looks, but he could only shrug.

All they could do now was take their new friend to the Labyrinth for shelter and fresh food.

****A back alley in Greenwich Village.

His intrepid sojourn had taken him a long way, but there was still so far to go, how far he did not know, yet it will not keep him from loyally returning to his master.

So far the only inconvenient contingency to sidetrack him from his path was hunger. He had ran long and hard, and he now required nourishment.

Searching about in the rubbish bins behind an inexpensive restaurant, Anaheim had found plenty of tossed out leftovers, much of which always attracted roaches and plenty of fat rats.

Anaheim had so far killed three big rats from behind this alley, and found he really liked the rush of a fresh kill and the taste of freshly caught meat, small though it was.

Knocking over another garbage bin with a loud crash, the yellow-green beast dug through its rubbish with gusto in his search for intact food scraps.

Unbeknownst to him, his clawing and scratching had attracted the attention of two unwelcomed visitors.

"Look at th' size of 'im," said the shaggy looking man.

"Ugly sucker, too," replied his companion.

"T'inks we can catch 'im?" eagerly asked Mr. Shaggy, " 'magine what' it might be worth."

"Yeah. But how's we gonna do it? And what's we gonna do wi' its whens we gets it?" asked his friend.

"I dunno, but I knows a guy tha' can uses it, and we gets paid good."

The two unruly men began to try quietly sneaking up to Anaheim as he was otherwise occupied with consuming trashed leftovers, but it proved in vain as one of them stepped on a piece of refuse that made a crunch under his foot.

Anaheim looked up at the noise and snarled at his would-be stalkers, giving them a good scare as his eyes glowed blood red.

"Whoa! It's one o' dem monsters people talks 'bout!" cried Mr. Shaggy's friend.

Through his frightful state, Mr. Shaggy became more excited as he said , "It'll be wort' lots more! Git 'im!"

They both made a jump at Anaheim, but the olivine colored beast was too fast for them despite his large size. He leaped at them with astonishing speed and bowled into them, knocking Mr. Shaggy to the ground and grabbing his friend's throat with powerful jaws to then shake him violently like a ragdoll and finally snapping his neck; he shrieked for only a second or two before going dead silent.

Seeing what Anaheim had done to his friend, Mr. Shaggy stood in frozen shock for only a moment as the large gargbeast snarled at him.

"No! Stay away, don't eat me!" Mr. Shaggy screamed as he began running away.

All too often in nature, especially for humans, when the brain begins experiencing the fight or flight instinct, what is all too often overlooked is the simple reasoning of never make any sudden move or run in sight of a hunting predator.

As the shaggy hobo ran like a bat out of hell for his own survival, Anaheim's own instincts told him to chase.

The hobo did not run very far from a faster creature on four legs and roaring behind him, and was certain he was going to die as he felt a few painful nips at his heels from the yellow-green monster trying to bring down his prey, which made Mr. Shaggy try to run faster from it, driven only by instinct.

For Anaheim, it was an invigorating rush to chase down this weaker creature to overpower and claim it for his own, for truly this had to be his element.

Just as the gargbeast was certain he was about to bring down his prey, he suddenly felt a painful sting in his left rump and became overwhelmed by a sleepy grogginess that made Anaheim stumble over his feet and slide a few feet on the pavement.

The last thing the clone beast could remember before losing consciousness was seeing the hobo continue to runaway, and the silhouette of a man came into his view brandishing a rifle as he said,

"You're mine, monster."

Not far from where Anaheim had fallen, just above the skyline two gargoyles glided closely together searching for the wayward beast.

"Where is it?" Demona hissed in frustration, making Typhon glance at her with a slightly raise brow ridge.

"Perhaps we will have a more efficient chance of finding the beast if we do some tracking on the ground," the crimson gargoyle suggested, making Demona give him a sharp look but still agreed to it.

The blue and red gargoyles landed on an empty street not too far from where Anaheim had fallen to a mysterious gunman, each looking for any sign of a clue to his whereabouts.

As Demona examined one side of the deserted street while Typhon looked for clues on the other side, every minute or so the flamed haired female found her gaze wandering over to the crimson warrior and could not help but admire his stocky build which greatly enhance and accentuated his red blood coloring and long yellow-golden mane. Many times in the last few years she has seen the bright golden illumination of the Sun in all of its celestial glory, but now its shine now seemed to pale in comparison to this male.

When Typhon seemed to sense her piercing gaze upon him, we would quickly turn to Demona to return it to then see her quickly turn away as though shy, making a small smile form on his handsome face. She is indeed a fascinating female with a bright blue coloring that must be the color of a morning sky and a red mane like fire from the forges of Hephaestus and a temper to match.

Why she was unmated, he did not know, and it was personal information she was not yet willing to reveal to him.

After several more minutes of seemingly futile searching, Typhon turned back to Demona to say, "I find nothing over here, I fear the beast is lost."

"No," Demona yelled, "We _will_ find it, we must."

Typhon gave her a sad look as he said in a low voice, "He hurt you a great deal, didn't he?"

"I told you," she growled, "I never want to speak of that."

"I know," he said patiently, "But you don't have to stay in this human infested city that causes you so much pain, and being so estranged from your clan. When I find Icarus, you can come back to New Olympus with me and be part of my clan."

Demona looked at Typhon with a bit of a stunned look, but remained serious as she said with an undertone of interest, "Thank you, Typhon, that's very generous, but I. . ."

She was suddenly interrupted by a loud crash and rustling from a pile of garbage bags in a side alley between two average looking buildings. Looking to see what was making the noise, the two gargoyles entered the alley and Typhon easily tossed away two large garbage bags to find a shaggy looking human cowering behind the mound.

"Don' eat me, don' eat me!" he cringed frightfully, making Typhon give him a distasteful look.

Something about this human's behavior caught her attention, and as much as it deplored Demona to do so, she asked with a hard edged tone, "Why are you hiding, human?"

"D-de m-monster, i' try ta eat me," Mr. Shaggy stuttered in fear, "i' killed Eddie, den chased me an' tried ta eat me."

"The beast, where did it go?" Demona demanded as Typhon stepped back and turned away with his brawny arms crossed over his barreled chest.

Demona grabbed the shaggy human by the front of his shirt and easily brought him nose to nose that she could smell his foul unwashed human odor.

"Where?" she growled loudly as her eyes flowed fiery red, and she could smell Mr. Shaggy soil himself.

He could only squirm and whimper as he was held up by the angered Demona as she prepared to claw him to death with her formidable talons, but something inside of her told her to stop and her eyes lost their raging glow.

The thought of Angela seeing what she was about to do to this helpless human, pathetic though he is, somehow made Demona ashamed of herself, when once there had been a time she would have killed him at first sight.

She let go of Mr. Shaggy's shirt as he slipped from her grasp and he landed hard on his bottom as Demona said dismissively, "You're not worth it."

Mr. Shaggy shuddered as he pointed to the outside street and stuttered, "Da monsta chased me out dere, and den s'me guy wi' a gun shoot at it and took I' away in a big truck. Dat's all I knows, I swear."

As the gargoyles made their way to the part of the street Mr. Shaggy had pointed at, the frightened hobo ran in the opposite direction, having had his fill of monsters for a lifetime.

Demona kneeled down to the pavement and felt around while Typhon simply asked,

"How are we to be certain that human didn't just lie to us?"

"One thing I've learned about humans," Demona said, "is that when motivated by fear they can be quite honest enough, a trait that makes them useful at times as well as a bane."

Demona carefully examined the scene as she touched the pavement with her talon tips, and could make out the faint but recent whiff of combustion fumes with her superior sense of smell.

It was a lead at least, as the detective would put it.

But where to go from here?

Ordering Typhon to remain silent, Demona drew in all the concentration she could muster, for without a proper magical conduit she will become greatly exhausted performing such a seemingly simple spell.

When she drew in all the energy she could, Demona chanted in Latin, opened faintly glowing turquoise eyes, and opened her palm to release a beam of mystic energy that formed into the scene which had occurred earlier.

Indeed, Anaheim had been shot but not killed, the gunman stood over him waiting as a big van drove up to him and the unconscious Anaheim as two more men gathered up the gargbeast to place him in the back of the van, and drove away.

Demona chanted again as a path of pale blue-green light formed behind the energy truck for the gargoyles to follow.

"That way," Demona said in her trance as she followed the light path, Typhon following close behind her.

****On a train to the Bronx

Chasing the rambunctious pup through the city streets had given the elder gargbeast a thorough workout he had not expected nor experienced for years, dashing about between startled humans in one way or to another, all while Nudnik was entangled in a chain of uncooked hotdogs that had been stolen.

Now, Bronx and Nudnik were on a big metal serpent, traveling to where, he did not know, but he was sure will be well outside the clan's protectorate. They had run to a place where these great metal serpents stop to empty of crowds of humans and take in more, only now none would board the great metal serpent at the sight of seeing two gargbeasts running aboard as the last crowd of humans disembarked.

For the pup it had all been a game, dashing about between humans who side stepped away from the racing gargbeasts to avoid a bodily collision to then race aboard the unmoving great metal serpent and gaze outside the crystal transparent window with his little paws pressed against it to leave small smudges, and his tongue happily and excitedly lopping out at anticipation of the ride.

Now, Bronx gave an exhausted pant, out of breath from Nudnik's playful chase yet still gave the pup a growl and snare of irritation at his lack of discipline. This made Nudnik sit on his haunches, bow his head in shame and give a low whimper.

From that moment on, they were to stay together while Bronx led them back home after they leave this great metal serpent.

Bronx had rarely, if ever, ventured out of the clan's island protectorate, the longest being when he was with Leader, his mate, and the hatchling when they went to places that were not home. He always knew his place was with the clan, comforting elders and guarding hatchlings with his fellow beasts. Sadly, now they were gone and he has seen so few beasts like himself, such as the female Boudicca on the magic island, and much less a hatchling like this one who is now part of the clan. This is why Bronx must fiercely guard him now as they make their way home.

Having eaten the hotdog link to renew their strength, they emerged from the great metal serpent some time later in a place like home but not home. At least this time, home was closer than when he traveled.

Bronx sniffed around the ground for a minute or two, determining which way to go, then gave a low huff to Nudnik to stay close and began walking in a direction that may lead them home.

Though the borough for which the dark blue gargbeast had been named had undergone a great renovation and revitalization in recent years, for everywhere Bronx gazed his eyes fell upon a great metal arm humans used to lift a big metal piece a few gargoyles could easily lift, there were still some areas of the borough that were still dangerous and were always to be avoided. Unfortunately, the elder and younger gargbeasts had wandered into such a neighborhood, for Bronx sensed it will be the quickest way home, though he remained greatly wary of his surroundings while Nudnik whined low with fear.

As they walked together down the road, every now and then Nudnik would get distracted by a sound from a passing alley stray cat or other stray animals, but Bronx softly huffed at the pup to stay close. Yet as they made their way deeper into the rundown neighborhood, Bronx sniffed at the air as though sensing something hostile.

Growling deep from his massive chest, Bronx looked closely around at his surroundings; decrepit buildings in disarray and in great need of refurbishment or would be granted a mercy at being torn down or burned to ashes as part of the borough's common place arson occurrences, and a greatly cracked and breaking street in great need of repavement, and all around repulsive ugly markings of graffiti painted the walls of the buildings in a sad imitation of modern art work.

To an average human eye there would appear to be nothing, but for a species of gargate with enhanced senses, something or someone had caught Bronx's attention.

Looking hard around himself, Bronx placed himself between the whimpering Nudnik and the potential danger. Unfortunately, he did not see it coming in time when he suddenly felt a sharp prick in his rump from a dart and he began to feel groggy as some sort of sleep spell overtook him and he fell to his side, fighting to stay conscious.

Seeing what happened to Bronx, Nudnik became scared enough to run away but suddenly ran into the tight grip of a stranger who rapidly tied his muzzle shut tightly with a rope so as he could only whimper loudly, and then quickly hogtie all four of his legs together, which the pup could not even break free of.

Moaning as he tried to stay conscious, Bronx could only make out fuzzy shapes and shadows, yet felt himself be placed in a rather big cage and could hear humans speak to each other.

"I thought these things were supposed to have wings," one said.

"These are obviously those monster dogs word on the streets also tells about," another said, "Either way we're gonna make good off o' 'em now. Imagine what they'll be like in the ring. Now let's get goin'."

There was a small bodily thump as Nudnik was thrown in with Bronx and then the sound of slamming doors before Bronx finally lost consciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

****Unknown location

Bronx awoke with an aching head, giving a low moan as he slowly realized Nudnik was rapidly licking his face urging him to wake up with frightened puppy yips. Raising his head with a start, Bronx barked in startled confusion to find himself and Nudnik in a strange place inside a cage, and his bark began a cacophony of more barks from excitable dogs in more cages.

However, what caught his attention were not the other caged dogs, but two humans rolling in a new cage with a gargbeast inside it very much like himself into the dog kennel.

"Are you sure about this, Mr. Glasses?" asked a burly man pushing the cage.

"Absolutely," said the brawny dusky skinned man, "I already have a lot of bets placed on these two and we're going to get our money's worth. I at first thought Tony had to be flippin' when he first put out that bounty for gargoyles after that turf war with Brode, but now we might be gettin' somewhere. It's just too bad the big boss doesn't see the importance of it."

As the men rolled in Anaheim's cage, the other caged dogs, an assortment of pit bulls, Rottweilers, Dobermans, and German shepherds, began to bark loudly at the new arrival, who just growled and barked back at them loudly. All the noises made Nudnik hunker down in fright behind Bronx as he gave a low whine.

"Are you sure we should leave him here?" asked the burly man, "They always get rowdy around new arrivals."

"Let them," Glasses shouted over the noise, "The more eager they get to kill each other, the better the show will be. Let's go, I have an important meeting."

Though Glasses was not looking forward to this particular meeting, he did not want to waste his energy shouting over the fighting dogs' noise.

"Doesn't it seem weird to you, Mr. Glasses, that those monsters look kind of alike?" the burly henchman asked.

"Unless they walked on two legs or four, they all look alike to me. Now let's get out of here."

As they left the kennel, the dogs continued to hostilely bark and snarl at each other and Anaheim, making the yellow-green beast roar and snarl back at them so ferociously the dogs soon quieted down. As a steady silence rolled over the kennel, Anaheim then turned his blood red gaze to the caged Bronx and Nudnik with pure hate, which the dark blue gargbeast returned with a cool tilt of his head.

Bronx recalled gargoyles who were like his clan, but not like his clan, they smelled funny and acted like hatchlings when they first met Bronx and kept calling him a 'good doggie.' Though he had not seen many gargbeasts like himself since they were destroyed long ago, this new beast was clearly like him, but not like him. Yet that mattered not, for he was still a fellow gargbeast who now found himself in a bad place like himself and the pup.

Somehow, Bronx will find a way to help both his fellow gargbeasts and the imprisoned dogs.

Not far outside the kennel, Glasses met with two more men, Baby Face Frankie and another man he did not know nor cared to know, because though Glasses and Frankie shared a similar rank within the syndicate, anyone working for Brando Dracon was to be treated with the utmost respect, though Glasses did not trust any of them.

"Hello, Frankie," Glasses said with unfriendly smugness, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Frankie just gave the younger man a frown as he said, "Mr. Dracon is having everyone in the business start stepping up, this turf war is taking its toll and he'll need to know he's got everyone's loyalty. Because if you know of anything about what's happening on the streets, like the spread of this Obscura crap, which we barely get our cut of, or of any traitors you know to come forward, Mr. Glasses. We can't afford to get soft."

"You know I'd never betray the syndicate," Glasses said with defensive insult, "But ever since Tony got thrown into the Grey Bar Hotel again, I haven't had much to report about. All I got going for me is this damn dog fighting ring we took over from the Vultures."

"Not Tony, _Mr._ Dracon," Frankie corrected with a razor edge, making Glasses give a glare, "And this crap heap of a business has barely turned a profit anyway. We're promised fighting champions, but all we've gotten are disappointments."

"Not to worry, Baby Face," Glasses said as he led Frankie to the kennel, "Just this night my boys captured a couple of champions that are sure to turn this business's luck around. Bets are already placed; all we need to do now is release 'em out into the ring."

Frankie's eyes went saucer wide at the sight of the caged gargbeasts, who both growled angrily at them.

"Where did you get those monsters?" he demanded.

Glasses' face twisted a bit as he said, "Just so we're clear, this happened before all the dirty fighting broke out. Some guy went to the Yakies with some crazy idea for a theme park about those flying lizards and had all this equipment for capturing them. But when that didn't work, they cut the guy off and had all this snappy stuff left over; cages, shackles, tranq guns, and other stuff just lyin' around and not knowin' what to do with it. So they put it all up for bid at a cheap price, and we were all too happy to take it all off of their hands."

Frankie raised a suspicious eyebrow as the door to the kennel closed behind them.

"See that those monsters live up to your expectations, Mr. Glasses," he said with a warning tone, "I'm leaving Mr. Zoom here with you to observe and deliver a good report."

With that, Baby Face Frankie took his leave, leaving Glasses with the stranger, Mr. Zoom, who just looked at him with indifference. Something about this guy did not sit right with Glasses, but he will have to worry about that later.

Signaling to one of his henchmen, Glasses instructed, "Get all the mongrels ready and start the fights, we have wages to win."

Cries and shouts of excitement reverberated and amplified echoes throughout the arena as two pit bulls ravaged each other in a brutal display of strength and savage bites, often creating a spray of blood that darkened their fur or added fresh droplets to the blood stained wooden walls to further add ugly maroon stains, or even stain the loose dirt floor.

For the dogs' mentality, it was a battle of dominance, the ancient wild instinct of protecting the territory and conceiving of others as only a threat. In the millennia long cycle and game of survival of the fittest, it was played in a display of superior strength and determination to overpower the opponent and expand rule of domain, and in turn ensure a strong bloodline.

Yet, for the spectators that surrounded the big arena, it was only violent entertainment that would satisfy their hunger for bloodshed for only a short time, and the only stakes of the outcome for them was the winning bet of a champion that promised to greatly pay off their gamble.

The two battling pit bulls again lunged at one another to chomp down and viciously maim to deliver a final kill. Though both already had their muzzles brightly stained with the redness of blood, neither was willing to show weakness yet and allow their opposing challenger to seize an opportunity for the final strike.

Yet as they tired from their fight, they continued to aggressively bite and nip at each other with vicious sounding snarls.

Finally, the most experienced champion of the fighting pit bulls seized an opportunity he had been waiting for, a mistake his opponent would make in over confidence. As the challenger went for a bite on the champion's head, the champion chomped on the challenger's exposed neck and suddenly began violently shaking the challenger like a ragdoll, making the wounded challenger give a pitiful whimpering cry of pain. The shaking continued even as the bell rang the end of the round and two handlers jumped into the ring to separate the dogs.

The winning dog finally release his grip on his defeated victim, who just gave a low sad whine as he lay weak and dying as small pools of blood poured as trickles from fresh wounds, testaments to a brutal life and mere symbols of deeper emotional scars.

One handler struggled to remove the still adrenaline pumped fighting dog with a long capturing pole, while the other removed the defeated challenger to be taken to a gruesome fate that awaited him.

Finally, Glasses jumped into the blood stained arena with a microphone in hand and enthusiastically spoke into it, "Wasn't that exciting! The reigning champion wins again! But, that's only the beginning, my friends. Tonight, we have a real treat for you. Two monster gargoyle dogs, who are gonna make their fighting début, right here only in this ring. This is a limited time event so don't miss out, start placing your bets!"

Glasses then jumped out of the ring with a smug look on his handsome face as murmurs of excitement and gambling bets reverberated around the arena's audience.

In cages just outside the ring which were in readied positions for release, the mood was very different. The occupants of the cages were restless, frightened, or angry at being confined and denied rightful freedom.

Within his eight by ten foot cage, Anaheim paced about like a neglected captured lion going mad with boredom within such a confining claustrophobic space. Once or twice, Anaheim had bitten at the cage's titanium reinforced steel bars to then get a non-lethal but extremely painful electrical shock. The yellow-green beast growled in frustration at this inconvenience, yet reserved himself from doing it again and instead continued to pace and every now and then glance suspiciously at the occupants of the other cage.

Across from Anaheim's cage, Bronx lay down and only patiently observed his clone as the olivine colored beast paced back and forth inside his cage. Bronx gave a moan of sympathy at seeing Anaheim get shocked, having known better with just a sniff with his nose and previous experience. Inside the cage with Bronx, Nudnik coward frightfully in a corner, while the older gargbeast licked him lovingly every now and then to reassure the pup.

Earlier, some humans had foolishly tried to remove the pup, but Bronx was quick to show them their mistake in judgment. Until he found a way to escape and get them both safely home, he will not let Nudnik out of his sight.

Having heard the brutal ruckus from within the arena, Bronx's instincts told him to be wary and keep the pup very close.

Not long after the end of the last fight, several more humans came and began moving both gargbeasts' cages to the doors of the arena, both gargbeasts growled warningly at their captors, Anaheim more hostilely than his dark blue counterpart.

Out among the spectators of the arena, the associate called Mr. Zoom walked around the audience seats observing what was unfolding. Although he had a look of quiet indifference upon his lightly toasted face, on the inside he was sickened by what he saw and wanted to vomit. Every now and then he fussed with his shirt as though something on his skin greatly bothered him. He never expected his assignment to take him to a place like this, but he knew he must do what's necessary.

Mr. Zoom then looked back out to the dog fighting arena and only raised a slight eyebrow in surprise and curiosity.

Bronx sniffed the air amid the arena as his cage's steel bars opened with a loud metallic creak, growling his defiance and contempt at the smell of blood, death, and savagery in the fighting ring's air.

On the opposite side of him, the cage doors opened for Anaheim and he just gave a vicious roar which made the excited crowd of humans get into a louder cheering frenzy.

Both gargbeasts looked around the cheering and heckling crowd with contempt, but Anaheim chose to hone his frustrated rage at the other beast that dared to look like him. He looked at Bronx with a hateful blood red glare and snarled in enmity at Bronx, who returned a low warning growl at Anaheim.

With a raging roar, Anaheim charged at Bronx with amazing speed uninhibited by his bulky size to then hit the dark blue beast like a miniature freight train, creating the sound of living boulders crashing into each other with a thunderous echo resounding throughout the arena.

Though Bronx was surprised and disoriented for but a moment, he recovered quickly enough to turn on Anaheim and bite down with razor sharp fangs into his behind and make the clone beast howl with surprised pain.

It was enough to get Anaheim to release Bronx, but the olivine beast was undeterred from attacking again as he made to maul Bronx's face, but the dark blue beast was able to swipe at the clone with powerful claws and leave three deep gashes in the left side of Anaheim's face making him groan with pain but then growl deep from his throat in hatred.

Anaheim charged for another attack on Bronx, who just dodged to the side to cause Anaheim to skid across the bloodied dirt floor of the arena for a second, but he gave another battle roar as he leaped high to land atop of Bronx with a loud bodily thump.

"This is the best fight I've ever seen," shouted someone from the audience.

"I don't care which one wins, they're sure to rake in the dough," another shouted with enthusiasm.

"Go for the kill, go for the kill!" heckled another man as he excitedly watched the gargbeasts fight, which started a chant in his section with a contagious mob mentality.

Mr. Zoom looked about the heckling crowd with a hidden disgust, trying with an iron will to keep from doing something stupid. But as his stomach twisted about inside him like he was digesting a cement mixer that gave him indigestion, he was unsure of how much more he could take and only knew he needed to wait for the right moment to send out the signal.

Within the ring, Bronx was able to kick Anaheim off of himself and gave another warning swipe with his claws at the yellow-green beast who just suddenly bit at it with the force of a bear trap to make Bronx howl in surprised pain as he momentarily limped away.

Anaheim's blood red gaze suddenly fell upon Bronx's cage as he heard a high pitched yipping from within. Little Nudnik yapped in challenge at Anaheim as his eyes glowed white like tiny headlights, and he bounced about at the cage's bar door as though trying to escape, yet received a strong but less lethal shock from the electrified bars.

Anaheim suddenly charged at the trapped Nudnik, making the growing hatchling whine with fear and hunker down in a far corner of the cage.

Just as Anaheim was upon the cage, Bronx threw his whole body in front of Anaheim, feeling the pain of a powerful bodily blow and the burning sting of possible broken ribs, but the experienced gargbeast refused to fall.

Fighting through his pain, Bronx head butted Anaheim in the side to make him stumble and plop to his side as he again skidded a short way across the dirt floor away from the caged Nudnik. Bronx then leaped atop Anaheim to pin him down in submission with powerful front legs, and instead of mauling at his neck for the kill, roared in righteous rage at his clone to surrender.

For a long moment, Anaheim could only stare up in frozen confusion at his counterpart. He was clearly the superior fighter and has won, yet why he will not go for the kill is an alien mystery to Anaheim. As Bronx gave a warning growl at the defeated Anaheim, he gave a tone he no longer wanted to fight, making Anaheim tilt his head questioningly.

"What's goin' on?" someone shouted from the crowd, "C'mon, you stupid damn monsters, fight! I'm not about to lose my money!"

"C'mon, fight! Kill each other!" another heckler shouted.

More angered shouts and boos resounded from the crowd of criminal gamblers at the inactive gargbeasts and the ceasing of their epic brawl in great dissatisfaction.

"What the hell's goin' on out there?" demanded Glasses as he reentered into the crowd "Get those beasts fighting again, right now!"

"Mr. Glasses, sir," puffed an out of breath burly henchman as he came running up to his dusky skinned bespectacled boss in urgency, "We got big problems, sir, I just overheard someone say they thought they saw cops headed this way along with SPCA vans. People demanding money back is gonna be the least of our problems."

"Well," Glasses said with narrowed dark eyes, "We can't have that now, can we? Have somebody stall them while I take care of things here."

As the burly henchman took his leave quickly, Glasses opened his cell phone.

Within the dog fighting ring, Bronx kept a firm hold on the downed Anaheim as he gave a pleading growl which Anaheim returned with an angered snarl. Bronx then looked around and growled angrily at the upset heckling crowd of humans. He always intensely disliked these kinds of humans; they always smelled of threatening hostility and cowardice, a smell that was insulting to his nostrils.

They clearly found the fight amusing for reasons he did not want to fathom if it meant nothing about protecting his clan or his home, and he will not go against his nature.

With just a look, somehow an understanding passed between the gargbeasts of what to do next: escape.

Bronx finally released Anaheim and he stood firmly beside the dark blue beast. They growled hostilely at the crowd of humans with alabaster white and blood red glowing eyes, the shouting and heckling soon ceasing as an aura of fear began to overshadow the crowd.

"Restrain those monsters!" Glasses shouted into his phone.

Several handlers wielding dog catching poles leaped into the dog ring, all warily eyeing the gargbeasts as they approached with apprehensive caution. Before any of them had a chance to react, Anaheim roared fiercely as he leaped at the closest handler and began brutally mauling at his face as the handler screamed in fear and pain, which only drove the aggressive Anaheim on even more.

As the other handlers tried to subdue Anaheim and pull him off of their comrade, Bronx saw his opportunity as he ran to his cage with the still trapped Nudnik inside. The pup whimpered with fearful eagerness as Bronx sniffed at the bars to give a grunt.

As little Nuddie squatted down far from the barred door on the other side of the cage, Bronx chomped down hard to receive a painful electric shock. Though it felt worse than when he and others were trapped by Macbeth in lightening cages, like millions of tiny hornets with magic zapping stingers trying to overload his nervous system, Bronx will not allow that to stop him no matter how painful it got.

He chomped down on the bars harder this time, making the electrical current increase its voltage, but Bronx refused to release his grip. Fighting through his excruciating pain as sparks danced and crackled about him and even nearly damaging his eyes, he forced himself to push through the bars as a pregnant eternity later they finally began to give way and bend out of proportion, thus proving they were barely a match for a determined gargbeast's strength.

Bronx gave a bark to Nudnik as the bars finally bent wide enough for the garg pup to squeeze through, but the spiny headed brown pup refused to move from being frozen with fear. At Bronx's next more forceful bark, Nudnik finally scampered up and squeezed through the opening as quickly as he could, yipping loudly at his own painful shocks.

Having finally made it through, Bronx collapsed in an exhausted heap, giving a low groan as he thought about just laying there for the rest of his life.

Seeing his elder unmoving and weakened, Nudnik yapped loudly at Bronx in urgency as he bounced back and forth, even pulling on his ear to get Bronx moving again.

Behind the Manhattan Clan gargbeasts, havoc ensued and began to increase by the moment as more foolish humans began to jump into the fighting ring and try to further subdue Anaheim. Already he had fatally wounded several handlers and one might already be dead, yet his attacks did not end there.

Although many gamblers wrapped jackets or other assorted cloth around their arms, it was not enough protection against a powerful gargbeast jaw as fangs ripped through the material and he shook their arms so hard bones broke, or even shoulders became dislocated bad enough for emergency surgery.

Behind Anaheim, Nudnik pulled on Bronx's ear harder to get him moving again, but the dark blue gargbeast only stirred a bit as he struggled to regain his footing.

The crowd of humans increased though Anaheim continued to aggressively attack any of them that tried to stop him, even if just to hold them at bay to help his fellow gargbeasts.

Finally, Nudnik yapped louder at Bronx to get up, the elder Manhattan Clan gargbeast pushed himself up to stand by sheer force of will. Growling at the crowd of humans, he ran towards the nearest wall, and as he had been told several times before, he _hit it_ with all his waning strength to break open a huge hole in the wall big enough to run through. Nudnik dashed through as Bronx barked back at Anaheim, who then released his latest victim to follow behind his fellow gargbeasts.

The larger crowd of humans opened a path as the three gargbeasts had suddenly broken free from the fighting ring, allowing them an easy path to freedom, yet instinct told Bronx to be wary of a seemingly easy escape.

As they ran down a corridor, Bronx sniffed a way out as several humans stepped out from side halls or came running towards the gargbeasts, all bearing rifles or tazer poles. Bronx leaped at the nearest gun toting thug and chomped down hard to break the rifle barrel in half, doing the same to other gun wielding thugs while Anaheim attacked with such a fury to leave behind more bloodied victims.

Bronx then suddenly pounced upon a startled human without a weapon, bearing him down with beastly strength and growled threateningly at Mr. Zoom. Bronx then cocked his head as he got a whiff of the human, gave a grunt of confusion as he stared at Mr. Zoom, then his short stubby tail wagged as he gave Mr. Zoom a couple of friendly licks on his face to then walk off of him and danced about as though beckoning Mr. Zoom to follow.

Looking the way Bronx wanted to go, Mr. Zoom only gave a confused then understanding look as he simply said to Bronx,

"I know, you just get out of here."

As the blue creature was about to leave with the smaller brown one, the greenish-yellow one snarled at him as it readied to attack, yet just as suddenly the blue one jumped in front of the yellow-green one to stop it. They exchanged communication of grunts and growls for several long moments, then the creatures were finally again on their merry way while Mr. Zoom made his way back to the chaotic fighting ring.

The gargbeasts dashed through the hallway a short distance without running into any more obstacles, certain they were to make it out. Yet, as Bronx continued in one direction, Anaheim instead turned down a side hall he sniffed as a faster way out. Bronx and Nudnik stopped in their tracks, confused at Anaheim's change in direction.

Anaheim finally stopped after a few more steps to look back at the other gargbeasts, Bronx grunted insistently of heading his way. But Anaheim just gave a snarl of disinterest and resumed running the other way. Bronx stared after his clone for a moment, then once again ran for the kennel where he was headed for with Nudnik close behind.

If Bronx's instincts were right, those like his leader's mate's extended clan should be nearby, and they can help the poor trapped dogs. Occasionally, Bronx had played with the humans tamed beasts in the olden days of the clan, but never were they treated like this, and Bronx owed it to their kin.

Finally arriving at the kennel with the trapped dogs, Bronx looked around at the cages as they began a barking ruckus again. He only began howling as though sending out a signal, Nudnik howled loudly along with him and then was followed by the dogs.

Back out in the fighting arena, Mr. Zoom found a scene of confusing chaos steadily being settled by a segment of order. Through all the damage and wounded, a squad of police officers, swat officers, and a few uniformed officers of the ASPCA slapped cuffs behind several people who tried to escape, or others tried to put up a futile fight. Some officers stood over wounded men and put in a call for ambulances and emergency assistance as they stood guard over them.

As Mr. Zoom assessed the situation, he suddenly found himself forced against a wall by strong burly arms as his own arms were pulled behind his back and the cold metal grip of handcuffs clicked tightly around his wrists.

"You're under arrest, scumbag," growled a gruff voice as the plain clothed officer forced Mr. Zoom around to face Detective Kowalski, "You might know your rights, but I don't give a crap." Kowalski grabbed Mr. Zoom's jacket collar growling, "I want information, and I'll get it however I have to."

"Officer, wait, it's not what you think," Mr. Zoom tried to reason.

"Like hell it isn't."

"Inside the left side of my jacket is a hidden pocket, please take a look."

Searching Mr. Zoom's jacket, Kowalski surprisingly pulled out a shining police badge.

"Lieutenant Rayce Carlson," Kowalski read.

"Of the 31st Precinct," he whispered, "I've been undercover in the Dracon mob for months gathering evidence about the gang war and how to stop it. I can't risk having my cover blown."

"I'll see what I can do, son," Kowalski whispered as he returned Carlson's badge, "Play along."

Making the undercover Carlson walk roughly in front of him, Kowalski growled, "You have the right to remain silent, so keep your pie hole shut unless you tell me now what you know about gargoyles being here."

"I know nothing, I tell ya, you damn copper, nothing," 'Mr. Zoom' growled back.

"Then I'll have to bring you in for questioning."


	5. Chapter 5

"Sergeant Finnegan," called one of the ASPCA officers, "I hear that howling coming from down here."

Several uniformed Humane Society officers followed the echoing of dog howls and barks, which became gradually louder as they neared the fighting dogs' kennel. They soon arrived to find a scene they knew all too well, yet it never ceased to appall the Humane officers at what is a great repulsion to the eyes.

Several breeds of dogs considered dangerous to humans, or were even band in some states, became more riled at the sight of the Humane officers as they took in the decrepit conditions the dogs were forced to live in and endure. No source of continuous fresh food or water were ever present in their cages, and they always walked in their own feces and ruin, the smell of which was overwhelming to the Humane officers nostrils that hit them like a tangible tsunami.

Yet one surprising scene never experienced by any animal officer before caught the attention of one female officer as she cried,

"Sergeant Finnegan, look over there."

Not far from the growing squad of human officers was two of the weirdest animals any of them had ever seen, both looking up at them all with strangely dog like smiles with long tongues lopping about.

"Be careful," Finnegan cautioned, "We don't know how aggressive they may be."

Two more Humane officers cautiously approached the gargbeasts, bearing strong catching poles with loops at the ends.

But before they were even five steps from the gargbeasts, Bronx and Nudnik made a dash for the door, startling several officers as they stepped aside while others tried to ensnare them at the necks with catching poles. But Bronx and Nudnik were too quick and too strong, as they bolted between humans or attempted to bowl them over in an almost playful fashion.

Having evaded the Humane officers, Bronx momentarily howled a victory of approval. For the Humane officers, had they not known better, it almost sounded like a 'thank you.'

"Well," breathed Finnegan, "Looks like we have another dog fighting ring ready to be shut down."

"We should have a seizure warrant for the dogs within the hour, Sergeant, but this nightmare will be shut down anyway, probable cause or not," the female officer, Jemez, said and soon set out for the warrant form a local judge while the rest of the squad gathered evidence.

Just outside the kennel out of view of the Humane officers, Bronx gave Nudnik a fatherly lick and grunted for the pup to follow. Now they were not to stop walking until they made it home, despite Bronx's painful limp.

Sometime later, Bronx had sniffed a path to a station and boarded a great metal serpent he smelled to be bound for Manhattan, and home.

Upon a rooftop across from an assortment of condemned buildings surrounded by police cars, ambulances, and animal humane patrol vehicles, all with their roof bubbles flashing colorful lights in a kaleidoscopic dance, a red gargoyle and a blue gargoyle watched cautiously as some humans lead other humans with their arms chained up in their backs to the squad cars, or caged dogs were put in the back of larger vans to be driven away.

"It's abhorrent," Typhon snared, "If humans can't even treat lesser creatures, much less their own kind, with any respect, how can we expect them to treat our kind so?"

Demona looked down at the scene with a mix of contempt, disgust, and something less hostile. She had spent the last several hours recovering from casting the tracking spell for Anaheim, which was greatly draining without a magical conduit and had required a great amount of concentration.

For several short moments she said nothing as many conflicting thoughts passed through her mind; her legitimate hatred towards humans and her insatiable need to destroy them; Angela's coming and her need to reach out to her bitter and resentful mother; and finally her unexpected friendship with Andrea Calhoun, a human who did not fear nor hunted gargoyles, but instead embraced them with openness and curiosity.

"The atrocious ways humans treat animals is some of the very proof of how deplorable and malicious they can be," she said in a low voice, "However, there is a small number, very small, of them trying to help animals."

"Most likely a resentful group that wanted possession of the beasts for themselves," Typhon said bluntly.

"No," Demona said hard, "I've been lead to understand the 'Humane Society' tries to help animals."

Thoughts lead to Andrea having introduced her, or rather 'Heather Westfield,' to friends at P.I.T. meetings that were said to work for something called the Animal Humane Society, which made Demona unsure of what to think.

"Humans are indeed a contradiction in and of themselves," Typhon said in deep thought, Demona nodding in agreement, "I never believed it to be true, even from all of the rumors of that one human arriving mysteriously on the island a few years ago."

Before Demona could ask what he was talking about, she spotted something below.

"There," she cried as she leap from the rooftop and glided down.

Anaheim, having finally found his way out of the 'condemned' building, sniffed at his surroundings trying to figure out which way to go, not paying attention to where he went, as a police officer walked in his path and gave a startled jump.

"What in the. . .!" he cried as he drew out his gun and shot at Anaheim.

Luckily, the bullet just missed Anaheim's face, as it created small sparks as it ricocheted to another direction, making Anaheim growl angrily at the policeman.

He would have attacked the policeman out of spite had he not heard the rustle of wings on air and a voice authortively say, "Anaheim, come here!"

He ran in its direction, leaving a bewildered officer staring at where Anaheim had been a moment ago.

Another officer came to check on his comrade as he said,

"Its okay, whatever it was, I think I scared it away."

In a closed off side alley, Demona landed just as Anaheim came running to her call and now stood in front of her with a spiteful stare.

"Anaheim, sit," she commanded, and surprisingly he obeyed.

"We finally found the beast," Typhon said with relieved contempt as he landed next to Demona, "Hopefully his little adventure has expunged his energy, and now I shall return him to Thailog. If you wish to, Fury, you may spend the day's sleep with me at my sanctuary."

"No," Demona cried, then composed herself as she said, "I can't risk raising Thailog's suspicions. I will come see you tomorrow night. Farewell."

She then quickly scaled a nearby wall, faster than needed, and was soon gone from Typhon's sight.

****Nightstone Unlimited

Stumbling on his landing as he glided through the automatic windows with his bestial burden in hand, Typhon huffed out a heavy breath as he finally dropped Anaheim at Thailog's desk.

"I hope he wasn't too much trouble," Thailog said with a smirk.

Typhon just gave him a stone hard look as he said with an equally hard edged tone, "He got away from me and eluded me for much of the night. You are fortunate to have your beast returned to you alive because he's part of whatever clan you once had and must be treated as such. However, I strongly suggest you have him better trained, he has caused me much grief this night."

Typhon did not wait for a response from Thailog, but simply turned away and was soon gone.

"Well," Thailog said, "Let's have a look at the results, and I'll consider taking your advice, my scarlet friend."

Summoning Anaheim to his side, the olivine gargbeast obeyed and Thailog then removed something from around Anaheim's neck, a collar that matched Anaheim's hide color so perfectly it had been camouflaged without notice.

He removed what looked like a small square computer chip from the collar and inserted it into his computer modem as Shari came up to his side.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Just something I've been curious about what Typhon does on his free time, maybe even something that will be good insurance."

It only took a few moments for the data from the mini-disc to download, and what showed made Thailog smile menacingly.

"Well, well, things just got a lot more interesting," he practically purred, "It'll be interesting to see how she makes things unfold as the game progresses, though it's too bad she's gone soft. Let's see what else we have."

Thailog's smile turned into a frown, or an occasional smirk, as he watched the hours worth of recording from the disc, often skipping over what he deemed irrelevant.

Finally, when the recording completed, Thailog leaned back in his plush custom seat as though deep in thought.

Then he said, "Perhaps Typhon is correct, I need to train Anaheim better to curb some of his aggression, admirable though it is. Though I'm glad to see this is one dog fighting ring shut down, I've never approved of them for their abuse towards such loyal magnificent beasts, when they're useful in other things. Besides, there's not nearly enough profit from them anyway."

Shari only nodded.

****Castle Wyvern, shortly before dawn

Graeme stood at the edge of the parapet staring worriedly out at the twinkling city below against the backdrop of a dark sky beginning to lighten to a deep indigo.

"Where are they?" he groaned with guilt, "It's all my fault they're lost, I should've watched them closer."

"You've been saying that all night," his sister groaned in annoyance, "And while no one's disagreeing with you, will you please just stop saying it all the time."

Graeme gave Ariana a hard glare as the gentle yet steel toned voice of their mother simply replied, "Ari-chan."

Just a look from Sata was all it took to cease anymore of Ariana's picking on her brother.

"I know you feel responsible, son, and that's admirable," Brooklyn said, "but it doesn't help to keep blaming yourself. Bronx's a pretty tough beast and not to be messed with. He'll look after Nudnik and they'll find a way home. Heck, I'll bet they'll make it back by tomorrow night."

"Brooklyn's right," Angela said as she walked up to the family, "The only other time I remember Bronx getting lost was in Ireland, he helped Cu Chullain defeat the Banshee while we were trapped, but I know he can be counted on."

Graeme gave a small smile from his beak as he said, "Thanks, Dad, Aunt Angela, I know Nuddie's safe as long as he's with Bronx, but he's still my responsibility and from now on I'm going to train him better to stay close."

As more of the clan gathered to watch the lighting horizon or attempt to comfort Graeme, a familiar female voice cried out,

"Hey everybody, look who we found at the station."

Goliath and Hudson came in for a landing, Hudson carrying Bronx, whom he released with a heavy huff, and Goliath ever gingerly carrying Elisa, who was carrying Nudnik.

"NUDDIE!" Graeme shouted happily as he ran to the landing gargoyles.

Nudnik squirmed free from Elisa's grasp and ran excitedly to his young master and began slavering him over with doggie kisses as his short tail wagged like a small propeller.

"Bronx," Lex cried happily as he ran to the limping gargbeast as the clan gathered around to welcome back the gargbeasts.

"Where'd you find them?" Graeme asked eagerly.

"It's the weirdest thing, and kind of a long story," Elisa said.

"Please make it quick," Angela said, "Dawn is almost upon us."

"Well, from what I can piece together," Elisa began, "the short version is that they had made it to the station as though to climb up to the old clock tower. Maybe Bronx though they'd be safe there until someone found them. Luckily, Morgan found them first before that twisted Kowalski or someone else did. Anyway, Morgan found me, I called Goliath, and we brought them home."

"Do you have any idea what happened to them, Elisa?" Lex asked as he cradled Bronx's head.

"Not really," Elisa said, "But rumor had gone flying around the station about a huge notorious dog fighting ring being busted wide open in the Bronx and that gargoyles had something to do with it."

All eyes went to the gargbeasts as smiles spread on the faces of the clan.

"I guess we'll never know, will we?" Brooklyn said with a wink.

"Maybe we never will," Elisa smiled with a return wink.

"Good boy, Good Nuddie," Graeme lavished babyishly on his pet as Nudnik began licking his face again, making Graeme giggle loudly at the ticklish kisses.

This loving reunion continued as the golden Sun rose to freeze Graeme and Nudnik together in mid lick, creating a heartwarming scene of a boy and his dog set in stone.

End of episode 12.


End file.
